---
The school gates were mostly empty by the ti I arrived.
Most of the kids had already gone ho. All that remained were a few small groups still waiting for their parents.
Yuna was standing near the iron fence.
Clutching her blue bag against her stomach.
The mont she spotted across the street, she stood up straighter.
Her steps were brisk but orderly as she approached.
"Papa."
"Hm."
---
We began the walk ho.
The afternoon sidewalks weren’t too crowded. A bicycle passed by occasionally, and the warm scent of butter drifted from the bakery at the end of the street.
Yuna walked half a step behind .
As usual.
Still hugging her blue bag.
---
After a few steps, I spoke without turning my head.
"How was your first day?"
Yuna took a sharp little breath.
Her shoulders tensed.
Like soone preparing to deliver a critical report.
"The self-introductions in class went... reasonably well."
"Your tone of voice."
"A bit more formal than the other kids."
I could picture it perfectly.
The teacher asking the students to stand up, one by one.
Then it was Yuna’s turn.
A nine-year-old girl standing far too straight, bowing with far too much precision, and speaking far too clearly.
"What was their reaction?"
Yuna was silent for two seconds.
"A few children stopped eating their biscuits."
---
I glanced back slightly.
"Intimidated?"
"It seed like it."
She lowered her head a fraction.
The tips of her shoes traced the white line on the pavent as she walked.
"I only gave my na."
"Did you bow?"
"Yes."
"How many degrees."
"About forty-five."
I let out a brief sigh.
Third graders usually introduced themselves while scratching their heads or stumbling over their own nas.
A forty-five-degree bow probably made it look like a press conference.
"Lower the angle a bit tomorrow."
"By how much?"
"Eighty percent."
Yuna did the math in her head.
"So... ten degrees?"
"About that."
She gave a solemn nod.
Her steps slowed just a little.
---
I watched her from the corner of my eye.
Her hands had started gripping her bag straps again.
It was usually a sign she was dwelling on sothing she considered to be a major issue.
"Is there another problem?"
Yuna kept her eyes on the asphalt.
Then spoke quietly.
"...about lunch."
We turned the corner leading to our apartnt.
"The block bento?"
"Yes."
She gave a small gulp.
---
"When I opened it in class... everyone stared."
"Classrooms are like that."
"A few kids had octopus sausages."
I said nothing.
She continued, her voice even quieter.
"I thought they were going to laugh at my bento."
We took a few steps in silence.
The afternoon breeze drifted sluggishly between the old apartnt buildings.
Then I prompted simply.
"And?"
Yuna paused.
She stared straight ahead.
As if recalling sothing specific.
---
"...it was kind of strange."
I waited.
She gripped her bag straps tighter.
"The boy who bumped into this morning... Yamada."
"Hm."
"He ca to my desk during lunch."
We reached the stairs of our apartnt building.
Yuna was still gripping her bag tightly.
And for the first ti that day—
a small smile appeared on her face.
---
User Comments
0 comments from readers